Amends
by Aoife-hime
Summary: [Sam x Jack] Bridges burned and bridges mended... so much can change in the course of a night. Now, though, it's time for the Carters to make amends yet again. PostThreads spoilers for Threads 8x18 plus general series spoilers
1. Amends

A/N: I've been wanting to do a sort of filler-fic for "Threads" for months and finally an idea came to me that didn't die out after two paragraphs. I should mention this fic has a major spoiler warning label slapped on it (for "Threads" obviously). So don't read if you haven't seen it and don't like spoilers. There. You've been warned. Now please, enjoy, and remember that feedback is always welcomed and possibly even treasured.

Amends

He had requested to be buried in Colorado Springs. That surprised a lot of people; he was a decorated general and a respected man in every circle and if anyone deserved to be buried at Arlington, he most certainly did. Sam knew better though. Her father wanted to be closest to the people with whom he died fighting.

That day, a hero was laid to rest in an unassuming plot of earth marked only by a simply granite headstone and a modest vase of flowers.

The wake was trying. Sam was still working out how she felt about her father's death; naturally, she felt the strong, aching pang of loss, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel a tiny bubble of joy rise in her chest. Her father, her only parent for so many years, was dead. At the same time, their relationship over the last five plus years had evolved into something that went beyond that of father and daughter. It was more than she'd ever hoped for and even though it had only lasted a brief amount of time, she was grateful for the time they'd been allotted. So as she shook hands and accepted many heartfelt offerings of condolences, Sam wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to cry or tell them cheerfully that they were wasting their breath.

Glancing across her living room, Sam could see that Mark wasn't having the same issue. He wasn't doing as much hand-shaking as she was, but when he did find someone he knew and they started to talk, Sam recognized the signs. They were the same ones she'd seen all those years ago at their mother's funeral. He was sad, but he was doing his best to hold it in. Not because of some military bravado like Sam was used to seeing, but because that was the way Mark was. He didn't want outsiders to realize just how far the pain for fear it might hurt them too somehow. In that way, he was so like their father.

Cleaning up was made faster by the extra hands. Mark stayed while his wife took the kids back to the hotel. That wasn't surprising. What _was_ a bit of a surprise was the fact that General O'Neill also stayed behind. It turned out that he was even more helpful than Mark, as the general actually knew where everything was supposed to go. When the house looked tidy once more, General O'Neill took his leave. Sam wasn't sure, but his gaze seemed to linger a moment longer than usual. Before she had any time to give more than a small smile in return, he was gone and she was driving Mark down the highway back to the hotel.

* * *

"Where was Pete?" 

The question practically blindsided her. They'd been talking intermittently about their father during the ride and then suddenly Mark just asked. With all of the preparations for the funeral and the wake, Sam hadn't had much time at all to think about her second ex-fiancé.

"I don't know," she answered simply. It was the truth, after all. Pete could have been in Nepal or the hiking in the Andes for all she knew.

"You don't know?"

"Nope. We, ummm… we're not getting married anymore."

"What!" Sam could hear an undercurrent of anger running through his disbelief. "What do you mean you're not getting married anymore? Not married at all? Are you just delaying it? Are you still together?"

"Uh, no. No wedding, no more relationship," Sam told him in as few words as possible. She still didn't want to talk about it. Even though it had been her choice to break off the engagement and the relationship, the fact that it was all over still hurt.

"Who broke it off?"

"I did."

"Can I ask why?"

Sam was silent. She really didn't want to get into this. They had finally fostered the brother-sister relationship that had eluded them for so many years. She didn't want to ruin it all, not because of her convoluted love life that had never once made sense since she had started dating.

"What was wrong with him? Pete's a good man, Sam. I should know; he's been my friend for years." Mark was probably better off talking to a stone wall, as Sam was doing a killer impression of one at the moment. Her eyes remained stuck on the road. The only indication that she heard him was her increasingly tight grip on the wheel. "Sam, answer me. What went wrong? This isn't about dad, is it? Because if it is, Pete would support you through this, I know he would."

On the steering wheel, Sam's knuckles slowly turned white.

"Sammie! What happened? I thought you two were happy! What went wrong!"

"He wasn't Jack," she whispered, feeling the tears she'd refused to shed the day of the breakup start to slip out. The lights on the side of the highway started to blur and bleed into the darkness of the clear Colorado evening.

That was the first time she'd admitted it aloud. Throughout the entire relationship, Sam had worked hard to deny that fact, to bury it so deep that it would never resurface no matter how much time passed. Obviously, she'd done a fairly shoddy job. More than shoddy. She never actually accomplished her self-set goal, because every time she spent time with her commanding officer she realized she was and would always be comparing Pete to him. She'd loved Pete, certainly, but she loved Jack more and had for much longer.

What was that line Christopher Plummer said in _The Sound of Music_?

"_You can't marry someone, when you're in love with someone else."_

Damn Cassie for getting that line in her head all those years ago. Of course, back when she'd been coerced into watching the sappy musical with Janet and Cassie all those years ago, she hadn't realized just how true that line would ring for her.

"Jack?" Mark's voice broke through Sam's reminiscing, bringing her back to the present in time to stop sharply at the red light. "Jack who?"

"Jack O'Neill."

"O'Neill… 'O'Neill' as in _General_ O'Neill? The guy who was at the funeral?"

"Same one," Sam confirmed quietly, the tires of the car squealing as she accelerated a little too quickly at the now green light. Mark was silent for a few moments and Sam silently prayed that this would be the end of their conversation for now.

"You dumped Pete Shanahan for _that_ old guy?"

Obviously that was too much to hope for. Sam pushed the car a little faster, hoping there were no cops out to delay them from getting to the hotel sooner.

"He's not _that_ old, Mark."

"His hair's completely grey! He looks like he could have been one of dad's old buds from their Air Force!"

"He _was_ one of dad's buds from the Air Force." _Sort of…_

"You know what I mean, Sammie. But seriously, General O'Neill? What do you see in that guy?"

"You wouldn't understand, Mark." Hell, she didn't even completely understand it. When it came to Jack, there simply weren't a lot of explanations. Jack was Jack, for better or for worse. However unlikely, she'd fallen for him. Hard. So hard she never could completely get up again. There certainly were times when she had wanted to strangle him, but then again there were also times when she'd liked to have strangled her father or her brother (or both). There were far more times when she had wanted to hold Jack O'Neill close, and possibly do more than that if given the opportunity. He was always there (unless he was stranded off-world or something) with exactly what she needed to get by, be it a flippant comment, an extra cup of coffee, or a hug. It was almost scary how attuned he was when it came to her.

"Try me." Sam took a chance and glanced quickly over at her brother. He was sitting rigid against his seat, his mouth set in a thin line that looked too much like their father's for comfort. Mark was upset, possibly even angry. She shouldn't have been surprised he'd take the news poorly; Pete was a friend, after all, and seeing how Sam had dumped him rather suddenly for another man, and a military man at that, she knew Mark would take offense on behalf of his friend for such an action.

"Don't get me wrong, Mark, I loved Pete. He was, he _is_, a very nice man."

"But?"

"But he's not Jack. I realized that there was no way this marriage would be fair on Pete. I tried to make it work, but I couldn't. I tried for months. I couldn't… I just couldn't stop… I've loved Jack for years, Mark."

"If you love him so much, why did you even agree to marry Pete in the first place?"

"There are so many reasons, Mark, and right now all of them seem pathetic. Did he tell you it took me two weeks to say 'yes'?"

"Yeah. He called me one day after I knew he'd proposed saying you still hadn't given him an answer. He was a ball of nerves. I was going to call you and tell you to make up your mind if you didn't give him an answer, you know. I hated hearing him like that, but I thought it was all going to be fine after you told me you'd said yes."

"He said something similar when I called it off… that he thought everything was going to be worth the risk after I'd said yes."

"Pete really loves you Sam. Even now. You know, it's probably not too late to -"

"Don't, Mark. Don't do this."

"Sam, other man or not, you two were good together! You shouldn't throw this opportunity away! You weren't cheating on Pete were you!"

"Mark…" Sam growled a warning edge razor sharp in her voice. "You know me better than that."

"Fine. Then, do you even know if this O'Neill guy reciprocates your feelings? You can't even tell me why you say you love him and you claim that you've never been together, so how can I expect any better from him? And even if he does return your feelings, can he give you everything Pete gave you and would have given you? If you've loved him for as long as you imply, why hasn't anything ever happened between you two? Because it won't. Sam, there's a man out there who loves you deeply and would probably die for you, and you just dumped him!" By now, Mark's voice had grown almost to a shout. He was gesticulating wildly in much the same fashion he had all those years ago when he used to fight daily with their father.

"What do you want me to do, go crawling back to him, begging for forgiveness!" Sam exploded, her foot pressing down more heavily on the accelerator all the while. "Because I'm not going to do that. I have more pride than that, Mark. I'm a grown woman, and while my love life has been anything but problem-free, I know one thing for sure. There's a man out there who loves me and would die for me a thousand times over, but that man isn't Pete. That man is Jack O'Neill. And I don't care if you like Jack or if you're friends with Jack or if you think he's too old or too stupid or too… too… whatever, but he's the man I'm in love with and the man I want to be with!" Sam could feel the hot, angry tears running down the sides of her face now, and her breathing was erratic at best. She didn't need the stress of Mark's disapproval on top of everything else, but she was most certainly getting it. The car banked sharply as Sam took the turn into the parking lot of the hotel much faster than was safe. She didn't care, though. All she wanted was her brother out of the car as quickly as possible before she gave into her desire to beat the crap out of him.

Neither one said anything as Mark got out of the car. He slammed the door behind him, the loud noise breaking the peaceful stillness of the night. Sam didn't expect to hear from him again until well after he and his family had returned to San Diego, and to be perfectly honest, she didn't really want to either.

Sam remained in the parking lot for some time, trying to compose herself for the drive home but failing miserably. Every time she thought she was good to go, the tears would start back up again. So much had happened to her in such a short space of time; it was amazing she'd held up as long as she had. She couldn't remember ever feeling quite so emotionally raw; even when her mother had died, things hadn't been quite this overwhelming. It was amazing just how many curveballs life could throw at one person at once.

* * *

It wasn't until she was almost there that Sam realized where she was going. The route to the general's house was more familiar than it probably should have been to her but she wasn't worried about the way things 'should' be at that particular moment. She pulled up sharply in the driveway, killing the engine immediately. This time, she didn't sit and deliberate for ages. Sam walked right up to the front door, rang the doorbell, and waited. 

She rang it again when nobody answered after a minute. And again. And again. And again and again and again until eventually Sam was ringing the doorbell over and over in quick succession.

"What?" came the familiar grumpy voice of General Jack O'Neill from behind the thick wood door. "For cryin' out loud, it's nearly midnigh… Carter?"

"Can I come in?" Sam waited for an answer, barely able to breathe. Jack blinked blearily at her for a moment, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. He looked like had been asleep for a while, as he was only in his boxers and sleeveless white shirt. Both looked sufficiently wrinkled and his short hair stood up in patches as well.

"Sam? Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe, maybe not," Sam admitted, her conversation with Mark playing itself over and over too clearly in her mind all the while.

"Come on in." With that, he ushered her inside. Sam instinctively went for the family room, finding a familiar seat on the couch while Jack chose to remain standing. His concerned eyes stayed trained on her the entire time, but he chose to remain silent. He knew Sam would say what she had to say in good time.

"On the way to the hotel, Mark and I had a fight," Sam blurted out after a few oppressive moments of silence. If Jack sensed where that comment was going, he gave no sign. She took a few slow breaths before continuing, doing her best to remain calm and collected.

"He asked about Pete and why he wasn't at the funeral and I told him it was all off. And we fought. Mark didn't understand how I could just throw away everything… I _tried_ to get through to him, but he was being typical Mark and when he gets like that _nobody_ can get through to him-"

"Hey, slow down Sam. Don't forget to breathe," Jack advised, taking a seat next to her. Sam nodded absently and followed his advice, breathing in deeply but finding herself surprisingly shaky. She only realized after her breathing had evened out that Jack had been rubbing slow soothing circles on her back the entire time.

They sat like that for a long while, simply being close. It was their own version of intimate that they'd created over the years; comforting, fulfilling, but at the same time extremely safe in the eyes of others.

"He said you were too old for me," Sam whispered eventually, her eyelids beginning to droop. Jack hadn't stopped rubbing her back and truth be told he was starting to lull her to sleep. If she wasn't careful, she was going to end up spending the night on his couch. Not that the idea was entirely unappealing…

She managed to look over at him, trying to make out a response. Usually the 'old' comment elicited something, if only a snort.

"What did you tell him?" he finally replied.

"That you're not _that_ old," she murmured, her head slowly dropping until it came to rest on his shoulder.

"Sam?"

"Mmmm?"

"I hate to break it to you, but I really _am_ old."

* * *

Sam didn't remember getting a blanket and pillow for herself. In fact, she didn't even remember going to sleep. The last thing she remembered was talking with Jack in his family room, which coincidentally turned out to be the place where she woke up the following morning. She felt groggy, her eyes felt a little puffy, and her back was a bit stiff from lying in a strange position all night. 

The smell of… something… cooking woke her up. Sam hadn't done any breakfast cooking in ages, so it took her a few minutes to process what was cooking on the stove. Eventually her nose informed her that someone was making eggs, and, seeing as she was still in Jack's house, that someone was naturally Jack. Despite the fact that the dregs of last night's argument with Mark were still haunting her, Sam couldn't help but feel a warm, comforting sensation spread throughout her chest. For once, something in her life felt _right_. This moment, sitting in Jack's family room, warm and wrapped up in a blanket with the haze of sleep still hanging onto her mind, felt right.

She was loathe to wreck the moment, but eventually she figured she could eat breakfast while sitting on the couch. Stretching, she stood up, smoothing down the clothes she'd changed into after the wake. Her jeans were wrinkled and her shirt was twisted a bit but all in all she still felt pretty presentable, especially since her only company was a man who'd seen her in much worse conditions.

"Coffee's not ready yet," Jack said as Sam came up behind him. She really should have remembered by this time that there was almost no sneaking up on that man. Still, even though the initial surprise was ruined, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy his proximity.

"S'alright, there's no rush." He'd put on sweatpants and a navy t-shirt and had obviously showered and shaved in the time she'd been asleep. The part of her mind she'd tried for years to ignore was loudly disappointed by the loss of the boxers but as the more sensible part of her mind pointed out, there really wasn't any way for Jack O'Neill not to look sexy.

"Feeling any better?" he asked, scrambling the eggs by pulling them across the bottom of the pan.

"Yeah, I am."

She didn't know what exactly had changed between them since the day her father died, only that something most definitely had. Their conversations still stuck to fairly innocuous topics, but when they strayed to more personal issues, Sam no longer felt a need to bottle the majority of her feelings and tip toe around the others. For the first time in her life, she felt free to discuss anything with Jack, even the most personal aspects of her life. It was strange but at the same time exhilarating. She knew the regulations were still in place with all the threats to their careers that they posed, but somehow it was like they'd transcended the rules, at least for the moment. She didn't feel guilty standing this close to him. She didn't feel that worrisome paranoia that someone somewhere would be able to see that she was enjoying his company more than a subordinate should or that she had stayed the night in his house with only Jack for company.

When he wordlessly reached over and clasped her hand in his, Sam didn't even think twice about the action. It was as natural as breathing.

"Thanks for letting me stay the night. I know it was unexpected…"

"Don't worry about it, Carter. I don't mind the unexpected when it's you. Now, if you'd been a horde of Jaffa, I'd have had a problem with that." He glanced over at her, his slight smile lighting up his eyes. In Sam's eyes, it really was one of the most beautiful sights to behold. She moved closer to him, his hand releasing hers and wrapping itself around her waist instead. Their progression seemed fluid, like they'd done it every morning of their lives.

That was, until Sam leaned up slightly and gently kissed him on the cheek, just next to his earlobe.

He turned slowly, a faintly surprised look playing across his face. He didn't even realize he was dripping egg all over his floor as his scrambling fork moved from its position over the pan. His arm around her waist didn't pull her any closer, but it didn't drop away either.

Their eyes locked, neither possessing the strength to look away. No words were exchanged, and yet somehow they spoke volumes to each other without even moving. That was the way it had always been for them; words were, in their world, superfluous for the most part. There were some things that didn't take words to express, after all.

After a moment, Sam felt Jack's arm tighten against her back, drawing her in closer. His head dropped to hers and they stood that way, forehead to forehead, for a long while. They could feel the other's breath, warm on their faces as they both stood still, savoring the moment and not daring to break it. Eventually, though, it was broken as Sam gave into the pull she'd been feeling for eight long years and finally moved her lips to hover over his. Still, she almost lost her nerve when she felt Jack's lips lightly under her own; a sense of elation rushed through her, but through that feeling remained the nagging paranoid voice that said someone somewhere knew what she was about to do. Sam pulled away slightly, but didn't get very far as Jack's hand on her back pulled her so close to him that her mouth had no choice but to cover his.

It was a glorious feeling. She almost cried out of pure happiness. To finally be able to touch Jack, to hold Jack, to _kiss_ Jack the way she'd wanted to for years was… beautiful. She wasn't disappointed in anything, though really, she was too caught up in the action to worry about disappointments and fantasies.

The moment ended all too soon. One minute Sam was completely surrounded by a scent she instinctively recognized as 'Jack O'Neill' and the next her nostrils were filled with the acrid smell of burning eggs. The smoke detector started blaring a few seconds later. With a few flying oven mitts and even more flying curses, the situation was eventually brought under control.

"You know, usually I don't burn the eggs," Jack explained later as Sam sipped on her long-awaited cup of coffee. She stifled a giggle into her mug and felt Jack's arm tighten slightly around her. "If it weren't for a certain blonde astrophysicist I know, we could have been eating a decent breakfast instead of coffee and a few bruised bananas."

"Perhaps," Sam admitted. "But honestly, I think I like the situation as it stands." _Who wouldn't?_ she thought, leaning into Jack's side. Breakfast, albeit a meager one, curled up on the couch with Jack pressed against her side was not what she was expecting but it was most certainly an acceptable end to the morning!

* * *

They had talked after that, going over their options. Both parties made it quite clear that they didn't want the other to sacrifice his or her respective career for the opportunity of a relationship. So they'd expanded their search, exploring as many options as they could get their hands on. When Sam returned to work at the base after her few days of personal leave were up, she was entirely frustrated. She hadn't found any solution despite all her investigative work. It really was a testament to how much she was in love with Jack O'Neill that she hadn't given up trying to work this all out. 

As it turned out, things had managed to work themselves out while she'd been away. Jack was being promoted (again) and leaving the SGC for the Pentagon. The news came to her five minutes after she'd locked herself in her lab, determined to find a solution to their relationship problem. She'd almost choked on her coffee before she literally ran all the way to the general's office to confirm the story her lab assistant had told her.

As she talked it out with Jack, one thing made itself quite clear. There was no way he would have even considered becoming a full time paper-pusher in one of his least favorite cities in the country if it weren't for the incentive of a relationship with her. When that point finally hit home, Sam nearly cried. Sure, this man was willing to die a thousand times over for her, but more importantly he was willing to risk going through one of his own personal hells for her. That there spoke more about his feelings for her than anything any man had ever told her.

* * *

"You're sure about this?" 

"Positive."

"When was the last time you talked to your brother?"

Sam didn't reply, but that didn't mean Jack accepted her silence for an answer.

"Sam?"

"… The night after the wake."

"Are you sure this is such a good idea, surprising him and all? Shouldn't we, maybe… call him first or something? It _has_ been nearly a month you realize."

"No. Surprise is the only way to get to Mark! Besides, if I talk to him beforehand, I might get so mad I'll decide not to go through with this." She paused. "You do realize that a month is an incredibly short amount of time for a Carter to hold a grudge, don't you?"

"Thanks for the warning," Jack muttered as he glanced out the window of their rental car at the house Sam had parked in front of. It was a nice house. From what he knew about Mark and his family, it seemed to suit them just fine. Looking back over at Sam, he recognized the set of her jaw and the glint in her eyes. She was going to go through with this, come hell or high water. He reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He'd be by her side through this, for better or for worse. Her eyes fell to their hands then met his.

_It's now or never._

The walk up to the front door had to be the longest walk of Sam's life, but Jack's hand on the small of her back kept her from second guessing herself. She'd spent too many years estranged from her brother; she wasn't about to let it happen all over again.

Sam rang the doorbell with a steady hand. The wait while she heard feet rushing about the house felt almost as long as the walk had, but suddenly the door opened and there was Mark, a look of confusion plastered across his face.

"Sammie? What are you doing here?" His gave Jack the once-over before returning his gaze to his sister.

"Mark, we need to talk. May we come in?"


	2. Alteration Finds

A/N: Alright, I finally did it. The sequel finally came together, though I must say I never intended for it to be quite so long... This sequel is dedicated to Haylie, the person who has been bugging me since we watched "Threads" to write something (anything) including Daniel in a flag. I couldn't quite manage the actual flag, but I did mention it. I hope you all enjoy this!

**Alteration Finds**

When he woke up that morning, it had seemed like a normal summer day. Ryan had a baseball game, Maggie had to work at a basketball camp, he had a meeting at one, Cate had to go into the office for a bit… there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. That schedule, though, did not include a visit from his sister and _that_ man. However, that was exactly what was happening.

Mark Carter had answered the strangely early ring of the doorbell only to find Samantha standing on his doorstep and that Jack O'Neill guy positioned about half a step behind her.

"Sammie? What are you doing here?" Mark couldn't help but look over the man next to his sister as he asked. Even though O'Neill was dressed in normal street clothes, there was a military air about him that Mark couldn't miss. It was that same air that unconsciously made him uncomfortable, an instinctive reaction triggered by the worst psychological remnants from his years of unfriendly estrangement from his father. He also looked worn, but beyond that there was something about his eyes that made his face look almost… fierce. Fierce and protective. Mark found the look more than a little unnerving.

"We need to talk. May we come in?" Sam looked about as nervous as Mark felt under O'Neill's glare, but beneath that he could sense a familiar determination he'd witnessed countless times when they were growing up. It had been there whenever they moved to a new neighborhood and had to make new friends all over again, it had been there when she told off the popular cliques at school that one time in junior high, it had been there when she'd told him and their dad to stop fighting back when their mom had just died, and it was there now.

"Yeah, of course," he replied, giving O'Neill another once over as he and Sam entered the house. "Excuse the mess. If you'd have called to say you were coming…"

"Sorry about that, Mark. I just wanted to make sure you'd actually talk to me and I figured this was the best way to assure that," Sam apologized while slipping out of her sandals and following Mark to the kitchen, O'Neill right behind her.

"Would you like anything for breakfast? We've got about seven different types of cereal and only one of those is pure sugar, I swear."

Sam looked up at Jack for a few moments while Mark watched them surreptitiously under the guise of making himself a bowl of Shredded Wheat. They didn't speak to each other, but apparently they didn't need to use words, or even hand signals, whistles, Morse code, semaphore flags, or any other form of communication Mark could think of at the moment in order to communicate. With a few raised eyebrows and a shrug from Jack, his sister seemed to know exactly what he wanted.

_That's… that's just a little creepy_, Mark thought. _Since when did Samantha become so good at reading men?_

"I'll just have a cup of coffee if you've got it, but Jack will have some of those Fruit Loops."

"Would Jack like coffee as well?" Mark asked. He didn't actually make eye contact with the man in question however. Sam noticed and frowned. She'd opened her mouth to reply with some none too pleasant words when a hand on her arm stopped her.

"Jack's fine at the moment," the man himself answered, keeping with the pattern and referring to himself in third person. "But Toto and Dorothy wouldn't mind a cup of the stuff."

It was a bad joke. Despite that, he saw his sister duck her head and stifle a smile behind her hand. Those actions alone made Mark want to stand and gape. He knew his sister was a genius, so how on Earth could she find something like _that_ to be funny? When they were growing up she used to wipe the floor with boys who insulted her intelligence with sub par jokes and riddles. That she was now amused by them absolutely floored him. Part of Mark (the part that wasn't still gaping at her actions) thought that perhaps it was not that Sam appreciated the humor, but actually that she appreciated the man behind the humor infinitely so.

Mark was still puzzling over his sister's unfamiliar behavior when another person joined them in the kitchen. Probably for the first time in years, Mark failed to notice his son's tell-tale thumping as he made his way none too gracefully into the kitchen, still looking half asleep. He hadn't even realized his son was up; he was used to the kid sleeping in until at least ten in the summers.

"Aunt Sam?" asked Ryan in his deadpan 'I just woke up but I won't actually be fully functioning for a few more hours' voice.

"Hey, Ryan. How are you doing?" Sam greeted, smiling as Mark handed her cup of coffee to her. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Mark reluctantly getting Jack a bowl and spoon and pushing the carton of milk in his general direction. It wasn't exactly friendly, but it was a start at least.

"Great," the teen replied, though he sounded anything but that. "What are you doing here?" Mark glared at Ryan for his lack of politeness but Ryan ignored him, as teenagers were wont to do every now and then.

"We were in town and decided to stop by."

"But aren't you and dad still mad at each other?" There was an awkward silence during which Mark silently wished he could have made his son stay in bed another twenty or so minutes and Jack suddenly found his Fruit Loops the most interesting creations on the face of the planet. Sam was the only one of the three who didn't seem the least bit angry or awkward.

"Well, that's kind of why we're here. Jack and I, that is." Ryan paused, digesting the information and munching on the bowl of Cheerios he had poured for himself. Sam could almost literally see the cogs of his mind grinding underneath her nephew's shaggy brown mop of curls.

"Good, maybe Dad'll be in a better mood now." At this, Mark gave his son a look that clearly said there were limits to how patient he was going to be with him. Ryan just ignored him again and changed the subject. "Are you gonna come to my game tonight?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't see why not."

"Cool. I'll see you later Aunt Sam," Ryan said, taking his dishes to the sink and heading back upstairs, most likely to shower.

"Would you mind moving this discussion to the living room? We're much less likely to get interrupted in there," Mark suggested, still glaring slightly at the space his son had recently occupied at the table. Sam and Jack nodded in agreement and followed Mark to the other room, away from the comforting coffee aroma and into a fairly cluttered room that seemed to become exponentially messier each time Sam visited. She cleared herself a seat on one of the sofas, with Jack managing to squeeze himself in between her and a rather large box of unknown contents. Mark, however, chose to remain standing. Standing, after all, made pacing much easier.

Mark drummed his fingers absently on the wall a bit, filling the tense silence of the room with at least some noise. "So," he began eventually, not sure quite how to get the conversation rolling but suddenly finding himself getting quite desperate to get the thing over and done with.

"So," Sam echoed, words seeming to fail her as well. Next to her, Jack bit his tongue as he endured more uncomfortable silence. He'd done negotiations before, but somehow he figured locking the Carter siblings in a small room together wasn't in his best interests. They were just going to have to talk it out and he was just going to have to sit quietly through it. _You're doing this for Sam… you're doing this for Sam…_he repeated in his mind.

"This is a reconciliation visit?" Mark finally managed.

"Yes… we seem to have a lot of those, don't we?"

"Mmmm…"

"So…"

"Yeah…" A heavy silence settled in over the room as both siblings worked up the nerve to say a sentence that was neither monosyllabic nor did it state the obvious. Jack discretely slipped his hand over Sam's, squeezing gently in a reassuring manner. They'd come this far… there was no backing out now… and besides, he was still going to be there for her at the end of the day no matter what transpired next. He'd promised he would never leave her side, and Jack O'Neill didn't back out on promises like that.

"I'm sorry, Mark."

"I'm sorry, Sammie."

The apologies were simultaneous and with them came a palpable release of tension. Sam almost felt like laughing at her own prior nervousness. Mark, for his part, was doing a spectacular job looking penitent; of course, Sam surmised, he'd had much more practice than she'd had since he was married and she had never been.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack sat back and watched the Carter siblings in something approaching awe. Once they'd gotten through the initial apologies, the conversation had flowed much easier. He didn't release his hold on Sam's hand, though; he didn't want to break contact any sooner than was necessary. After all, it had been nearly a month since he'd gotten to see her in person! But besides that, Jack knew how much she'd worried about this meeting with Mark. He'd gotten more than a few distressed phone calls from Sam over the last few weeks or so explaining just how nervous she was about this. She needed support. The first time she'd had Jacob with her (actually, if he remembered correctly, it was Jacob who was doing most of the apologizing) but this time she didn't have him. This time all she had was Jack and he wasn't going to break that important connection with her any sooner than necessary.

Eventually, though, Jack's self-appointed job as Sam's pillar of strength turned into a test of willpower. He began to feel like fifth wheel as the conversation drifted to more personal issues, especially when Mark and Sam started to discuss the topic of Pete Shanahan. It seemed that ol' Pete was part of the core reason they'd fought in the first place. Now that was one topic that didn't lose its unpleasant edge with the passage of time, at least not for Jack. Before things got too uncomfortable for him, he excused himself with the intention of making himself a cup of the coffee he'd earlier declined. He'd made it quite clear to Sam before he left, though, that if anything, _anything _at all bothered or upset her, all she had to do was call and he'd be right there.

Jack ended up going through every cabinet trying to find a mug and making a fair bit of noise while doing so. Eventually he found one hiding behind the blender; it looked a little dusty but other than that fit for holding his coffee. Jack wasn't picky or even discerning about his coffee like some archeologists he knew nor did he care how it was contained just so long as he could drink it. He had just emptied the pot into the mug when another member of Mark's family entered the kitchen, gazing at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" asked the teenage girl, muddy blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail. She looked fairly athletic and was dressed in red basketball shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. As Jack stared blankly at her with his cup of coffee stuck halfway between the counter and his mouth, he decided she looked like a suspicious, teenage, basketball playing female version of Mark and that she probably thought him a very strange burglar at the moment. He set his coffee down before speaking.

"Jack O'Neill, and you are…?" He answered as if his presence in that kitchen was a completely normal and everyday event. Jack had a feeling that he was supposed to remember the girl's name, but at the moment it was escaping him. The only thing his mind could think of was 'Magdalena', but he knew that wasn't it because that was the name of one of the nuns that had taught him in first grade.

"Maggie."

_Ooo… so close, Jack!_ "Ah, so you're Sam's niece."

"How do you know Aunt Sam?"

_Geez, haven't I been interrogated by enough Carters for one lifetime already!_ "I used to work with her in Colorado."

"Wait a sec; you were at Grandpa Jacob's funeral weren't you?"

"Yes, I was there." _Finally, I'm getting a little recognition around here!_

"Oh now I remember! You're the guy dad was complaining about for the entire drive to the airport last May! Are you here with Aunt Sam?"

_Glad I'm so fondly remembered…_Jack grouched to himself before replying. "Yeah, she's in that room over there talking things over with him."

"It's about damn time," Maggie grumbled quietly, going over to the toaster and sticking in two slices of bread.

"Amen to that," Jack replied softly into his coffee.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours passed. Two excruciatingly long hours during which Jack paced, worried, wished Teal'c and Daniel hadn't opted to stay at the hotel until they were done at Mark's, and nearly broke at least five fairly expensive-looking crystal glasses when he fiddled with some beaded decoration around the neck of a champagne flute. Maggie, who had been finishing up her breakfast at the time, had actually burst out laughing at his panicked expression and frantic saving of the glassware.

"You know, Mom managed to convince Dad not to strangle you once. I'm not sure she'd enjoy having to do it again," she called before grabbing a gym bag, basketball, and car keys and heading out the door.

Jack grimaced and poured himself another bowl of Fruit Loops. He was really going to have to thank 'Mom' when he saw her.

Sam and Mark entered the kitchen again soon after that. They weren't smiling per say, but both had a sort of relieved glow about hanging about them. They'd apparently come to a mutual decision, though what that was exactly Jack couldn't tell. He didn't ask, though, as Sam hugged Mark tightly. It wasn't his place to interrupt a family moment.

"We'll see you later for the game," she whispered to her brother before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Come on, Jack. The guys are probably getting a little antsy by now."

"You explained to Mark that Danny and T are here too?" Jack asked quietly, feeling the eyes of Sam's nephew glued on his back as they made their way out through the front door. The kid was probably hiding behind a banister or something, but Jack didn't care to check.

"Yeah, I told him we were having a bit of a reunion and that Sea World would eventually be involved." Sam could tell Jack's eyebrows were approaching his hairline without even looking back at him.

"Sea World? Nobody mentioned Sea World to me," Jack complained, feeling a little hurt he was so out of the loop but excited nevertheless.

"Well, nobody would have. It was my decoy." She had her back to Jack so she missed the look of childish disappointment that passed quickly over his face. "I didn't want Mark knowing he was the only reason we're all in San Diego. Don't want to make him feel _that_ important, now do I?" Sam turned, flashing a familiar devious yet entirely brilliant smile his way.

"I am so entirely relieved you are not my little sister."

"So am I. Otherwise we'd be breaking some pretty big laws every time we so much as kiss."

"Hey! You know what I mean. And wipe that smirk off your face!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'The boys', as it turned out, weren't so much antsy as they were simply bored. Thankfully, neither Daniel nor Teal'c was anywhere near as fidgety as Jack was when he was bored so they at least managed to keep the lamps and appliances in the hotel room and lobby in one piece. They'd found slightly less destructive ways of occupying themselves until their friends returned from the most important phase of Operation: Carter. Daniel had, of course, brought work-type things along with him and was going through characteristically thick tomes dealing with Medieval England's mythology while Teal'c occupied himself with the massage chair in the lobby. Every so often he would reach over in Daniel's direction and the archeologist would hand over a few more bills without even looking up from his reading. Their behavior raised more than a few eyebrows, but the friends didn't even notice.

Teal'c's latest session in the massage chair had just run out when they heard the distinctive voice of Jack O'Neill over the organized chaos of the lobby.

"All I'm saying is that we should find somewhere better to park. That parking lot attendant is too cheeky for his own good," Jack grouched as they approached their friends.

"Jack! Sam! How'd everything go?" Daniel greeted her and Jack when they finally maneuvered their way over to where he and Teal'c had been waiting. He was dressed in jeans and a collared shirt; not exactly touristy, but the closest to touristy as Dr. Daniel Jackson ever got. Teal'c on the other hand was decked out in cargo shorts and a glaring Hawaiian shirt, a bucket hat covering his forehead. At least after all these years Sam, Jack, and Daniel had learned how to take Teal'c's clothing sense in stride. That didn't mean everyone else who passed the large man in the massage chair took it equally as well, however. At that moment, a kid tripped over his rolling luggage as his eyes lingered too long on the Jaffa and went tumbling across the lobby.

"Better than expected, though not everything's completely alright yet," Sam replied, completely ignoring the mini-accident scene behind her. Immediately both Daniel and Teal'c looked over to Jack in what could only be construed as an accusing glare.

"Hey! What are you looking at me for?"

"Your reputation for diplomacy is not nearly as strong as your reputation as a warrior, O'Neill," Teal'c stated plainly, looking his friend square in the eye.

"Yeah, Jack… you're not exactly known for making tense situations better," Daniel added, wondering not for the first time if it was wise for Jack to go to Mark Carter's house when he was obviously one of the reasons Mark was pissed in the first place.

"Hey, I know I've been known to screw things up royally before, but this time it wasn't me! Alright?"

"Jack's right, guys. Mark and I still have a few issues to work out on our own. However, in an attempt to do so, I plan on going to my nephew's baseball game tonight. Anyone else want to join me?"

It wasn't really much of a question. There was never any doubt that Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c would be tagging along too.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Has T ever been to a baseball game, Sam?" Mark whispered to his sister during the top of the third inning. Ryan's team was batting at the moment, but Ryan was pretty far down the line up at the moment so Mark allowed himself to relax his focus on the game for a few minutes.

"I don't think he's actually been to one, but I know he occasionally watches them on TV. T's not big into watching sports; he prefers to actually be playing them," Sam whispered back, glancing over at her Jaffa friend who was currently downing a large bottle of water. He'd been asking question after question, much to the annoyance of not only Mark, but also to Jack who thought the Jaffa would be able to remember more of the rules of the game he'd first explained just under a decade ago. When Daniel eventually had attempted to re-explain the rules of the game to him, Sam had almost ended up on the ground laughing. Between the two of them, they managed to mangle the rules and objectives so completely that she was positive they weren't talking about Earth baseball by the end of it.

"Did you have to bring all of your guy friends along to San Diego?" Mark complained softly. He hadn't meant for his sister to hear. She had, though; years in the field had honed her hearing abilities and now was just one of the many times when Mark regretted burying that bit of information in the back of his mind.

"I told you this morning, Mark. We're all here together. I didn't bring them along for the ride; I'm sure they could all think up better things to do with their vacation time than watch you and me work out our differences." Sam's retort had a sharp edge to it that made Mark uneasy. Her voice had taken on that same tone the night of the wake. Mark knew very well it was a dangerous tone.

"Still, it's a little… weird…" he mumbled to himself, not knowing the exact word to describe the way he felt around Sam's colleagues and friends but not wanting to set Sam off by saying something insulting either. Somehow he always felt like he was walking in on a very exclusive inside joke whenever he was around them and that no matter how much he hung around, he would never quite get it. It was frustrating, a little unnerving, and after a while it felt like he was vying for his sister's attention. He went along with their presence, though, because he knew what they meant to Sam; at the funeral and the wake they were the ones who supported her, not him, her very own brother. They were the ones who'd spoken during the service, the ones who'd set up the wake, and the ones (and one specifically) whom Sam had run to after she had argued with him in the car.

They were by all accounts an insanely mismatched group of friends. A quite obviously career military man with the oddest sense of humor Mark had seen in ages, an archeologist who apparently was severely allergic to anything that reproduced with pollen or shed, a mysterious and stoic man who was probably a bouncer, a hit man, or some sort of an eccentric designer, and his sister, the geeky and brilliant military officer… Mark had been thinking about it ever since the funeral and he'd yet to figure out how any of them related to each other, let alone had become friends. He wasn't even going to start to fathom what his sister saw in Jack O'Neill. However, even he had to admit that there was something _special_ about their relationship. Just from seeing them interact together this morning he could tell that. Hell, he would have had to have been blind not to see it.

When it came down to it, he was jealous. Jealous that she had found a family to replace him and their father and jealous that she'd found the man she truly and deeply loved all on her own. Jealous that she had people in her life who seemed to know each other inside and out and would probably go through hell and back for each other if need be. Sure, Mark loved his family and wouldn't trade them in for all the kingdoms of the world, but that didn't stop a little twinge of envy to spring up every time he saw Sam with _them_.

"Mark? Mark, Ryan's on deck. It looks like he'll probably bat this inning," Sam hissed at him, nudging him none too gently in the side to get his attention.

"Hey, cut it out Sammie. You've got sharp elbows, you know?" he complained, shaking his head as if that action were able to physically disperse his recent musings. Mark thought he heard O'Neill mumble something like _'You have no idea'_ but the connotations of such an utterance disturbed him so much that he blocked it out of his mind completely.

Ryan did indeed get a chance to bat, not that it ended up doing any good for his team. He was eventually struck out on a full count. At one point, Daniel and Jack had to restrain Teal'c from standing up and upbraiding the umpire (in his intimidating yet formal voice, of course) for calling a strike when he was convinced the pitcher had thrown a ball. At that point, most of the opposing team's parents sitting around Teal'c decided to move to different seats, some discretely while others basically sprinted to the farthest available spot.

"The umpire appears to not be able to see the ball accurately, O'Neill. This is the twentieth time he has made such an erroneous call. Should he not be relieved of his duties?" Teal'c reasoned once Jack and Daniel had him firmly ensconced on the bleacher once more.

"Uh… sadly, no," Jack answered cautiously. "Remember, it doesn't work that way. Umpires are only human, after all, and you know how many mistakes we tend to make." Teal'c didn't respond, instead exhaling strongly. At least he relaxed a bit so the other spectators weren't quite so scared to be within a five mile radius of him.

The rest of the game progressed without incident, though when Ryan Carter made a fairly miraculous diving catch in the sixth, Mark was sure Sam, her friends, and himself would have tipped over the bleachers in their enthusiasm had they not been bolted to the concrete. The catch aside, Ryan's team ended up losing. The boy's slightly sullen attitude as he met Mark and Sam after the game attested to that fact. Both siblings tried to convince Ryan it wasn't all that bad of a loss and that his team (and him in particular) had played very well but for the longest time it seemed as if he wasn't buying their compliments.

"Are you guys staying for dinner, Aunt Sam?" Ryan asked out of the blue. For the split second before he asked his question, both Sam and Mark had been convinced that they'd finally managed to snap the kid out of his minor stupor. After he asked, Sam supposed they had done that in a way, just not the way either of them planned.

"Uh, I don't know. We didn't discuss it," Mark answered honestly, looking over at his sister who for once looked just as nonplussed as him.

"I guess we could stay. That is, unless you guys don't have enough food for four more adults…"

"We don't. But we can go out to eat instead," Ryan supplied matter-of-factly. He looked up at his dad, noticing his 'And who exactly will be financing this adventure?' look and ignoring it. "Let's go to Zeppo's. We haven't been there in ages!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What am I supposed to wear to this dinner thing? Semi-formal? Casual? Do you think I can get away with wearing jeans?" Daniel fretted once done with his shower, tossing through his suitcase and looking for a suitable outfit for their dinner with the Carters. He had convinced the group that a shower and a change before dinner would be a good thing, especially since he had after the game somehow managed to stand next to a puddle of muddy water that a truck just happened to drive through at that exact moment.

"Daniel Jackson, your worries are unnecessary. You have packed several outfits that will fit the occasion," Teal'c assured his friend from his perch on his bed. It didn't have the magic fingers machine he liked so much, but it was by no means a shoddy bed. He watched Daniel rummage through the tiny closet with great amusement, while he himself was already dressed in a nice polo shirt and khakis. His forehead covered this time by a stylish fedora.

"But I know this means a lot to Sam. I don't want to make a bad impression on her family or anything. Would you wear the green or the blue shirt with these pants?" Daniel continued to worry, the damp ends of his hair dripping water onto his glasses and obscuring his vision slightly.

"I would wear neither."

"Neither?"

"Neither color flatters the tone of the slacks. If I were in your place, I would choose the maroon."

"Are you sure? Doesn't the maroon look a little… I dunno, flashy?"

"If you are so indecisive about your wardrobe, perhaps you would be better off in a flag?"

Daniel sputtered and dropped the hangers and shirts he had been holding while he deliberated. "What! Teal'c! What on Earth are you talking about!"

"I have it on good account that your flag outfit was one of your most popular with the personnel of the base."

Daniel remained silent, gathering the clothes that had fallen to the floor in his surprise. Those damn nurses! After all these years, they were still up to their old tricks! No matter what, his most embarrassing escapades always seemed to come back to haunt him in the worst ways possible, and it usually started with one of the nurses mentioning something to Sam, Jack, or occasionally Teal'c. He was successfully able to stifle a groan of embarrassment, but he could still feel his cheeks coloring. Damn them!

"I think I'll go with the maroon."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Nice shirt, Daniel," Jack teased under his breath while the he and the Carters, Daniel, and Teal'c were waiting to be seated at Zeppo's, a run of the mill Italian place. Daniel almost didn't hear the jab over the numerous rambunctious children bouncing around in their seats and getting bright red sauce all over their clothing. He did though, and discretely elbowed Jack in the ribs in return.

"Behave," hissed Sam to the two of them as a hostess who didn't look a day over seventeen seated them at a table as far away from the spaghetti-throwing children as possible.

"Yes, mother," Daniel replied with an eye roll. Jack just stuck with a trademark smirk.

A perky waitress came by once they were all seated and brought them water. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five and yet she immediately took a shining to Daniel, smiling at him not so coyly when he gave her his drink order. While his friends were more than used to Daniel's effect on women and simply laughed it off, Mark raised his eyebrows and Cate nearly choked on her water. Maggie and Ryan just gave the waitress glares that said something to the effect of 'are you insane!' and went back to bickering about some television show.

"Does that happen often?" Mark asked the group when the waitress had finally left.

"More often than you know," Jack smirked into his glass.

"So, Mark, what do you do for a living?" Daniel changed topics, purposely ignoring Jack's latest comment.

"Uh, I work at an insurance firm downtown."

"Worked there long?"

"Nearly fifteen years now, actually. I started right out of post-grad. Sammie tells me you're an archeologist."

"That's right."

"So how'd you get roped in with my sister's crowd? I mean, you're not exactly military or a science geek so I'd think all that deep space telemetry stuff must be pretty boring for you."

"Uh… not exactly. It's kind of a long story, but I've been with them since the beginning of the program and I couldn't dream of doing anything else," Daniel deftly evaded truly answering Mark's question. "Hey," he began as an idea popped into his head, "have you ever heard how Sam and Jack met?"

"No. What happened?" Cate had jumped in at this point, her interest piqued by Daniel's slightly devious yet completely innocent look. Even Teal'c was doing his own version of a smile by now.

"Daniel, you don't need to tell -"

"Sam joined the briefing a little late," Daniel related despite Sam's protests and her rapidly flushing skin. Over the last few months especially, Feretti and some of the other guys who's been at the first briefing had taken to giving the couple more than a little good-natured grief about their rather explosive first encounter. Sam went red every time without fail whenever they brought up her reproductive organs speech but Jack usually just sat back and laughed. "Jack wasn't too thrilled about having her forcefully assigned to him, mostly because he had a thing about working with scientists. Actually, I think he still does."

"Hey, if you noticed, I was nicer to you after you stopped sneezing every two seconds," Jack interrupted. "And I don't mind _all_ scientists… just some."

"Anyways, Sam got all defensive because she thought he was going to shut her out because she was a woman and ended up making a few very feminist comments… then of course, she challenged him to arm wrestle." By now Daniel was openly grinning at Cate's awe and Mark's knowing half smile.

"Yeah, that sounds just like Sammie," he commented, sneaking a glance at his tomato-faced sister. He saw Jack slip his hand around hers and give it a light squeeze. She turned and grinned sheepishly and he grinned back, winking. They really were a cute couple, he had to admit.

"You know, Sam, we never did have that arm wrestling match," Jack teased quietly.

"You're on," Sam muttered back. "But somehow here doesn't seem like the best place."

By this time, the flirty waitress had returned, asking for their orders. The adults, save Teal'c, all scrambled quickly over the menu's choices as they'd been too caught up in conversation to actually look at them beforehand. By the time the waitress had left, Daniel was already starting in on another amusing anecdote about Sam. Occasionally, Teal'c would jump in with a story or two. Jack for the most part remained silent, enjoying listening to the stories as much as Mark and Cate were. Though he did put in his two cents on one topic in particular.

"If you ever have a broken bone, do _not_ under any circumstances let Sam splint it."

This earned him a bit of a glare from Sam and confused looks from Mark and Cate. When the married couple looked over at Daniel and Teal'c for answers, all they saw were far-away looks that answered nothing.

"Umm… okay?" Mark finally ventured. "Should I ask why not?"

"Because you'll end up in more pain than you started, let me tell you." Jack was still receiving confused stares from the Carters. "I broke my leg once when some of our… technology malfunctioned and Sam was the only one around to set it," he said in further explanation. "Traumatized me for life." The last comment earned him a firm punch in the arm from Sam and a corresponding sympathetic wince from Mark. He remembered vividly just how hard his baby sister punched.

Once their dinners arrived, the conversation stemmed a bit. Mark took the opportunity to simply sit and watch them, all four of them, interact. It was scary how well they knew each other and how well they could push each other's buttons. They kept on laughing through dinner, telling stories that Mark could tell were slightly abridged yet hilarious nevertheless. T and his Star Wars obsession, Daniel and his unnaturally strong addiction to coffee, Jack and his non-existent diplomatic skills, and Sam… Sam and her 'doohickeys', Sam and her strange penchant for blue Jell-o, Sam and her motorcycle, Sam and her inability to cook, Sam, Sam, Sam. By the time he was almost done with his lasagna, Mark realized that he was finally being shown a side of his sister he'd been missing out on ever since she'd joined the Air Force. It was then that he'd stopped seeing her as a human being and started seeing her as a clone of their father – all military, all the time. When he'd introduced her to Pete, in a strange way he thought he'd been doing her a favor, introducing her to what he considered "real life". A life outside the military and her job. A life with someone who didn't tote around big guns and fly F16's for a living. A life with someone both she and _he_ could live with and accept into the family.

It finally hit him that he'd been possibly the most selfish bastard on the entire planet for railing on his sister that night after the wake. She was so clearly in love with the man next to her, grey hair, military rank and all; he was an idiot for trying to convince her otherwise. He'd been convinced his life was the best way to live; he hadn't realized that she'd found her own life.

"Hey, Sam?" he whispered, not wanting to interrupt another of Jack O'Neill's strangely entertaining stories about Daniel.

"Yeah?" Sam whispered, turning to face him. Her wide blue eyes were fixed on his face in a penetrating yet perplexed stare Mark remembered all too well from his childhood. It was now or never, and never just wasn't an option. He'd seen first-hand what 'never' did to a relationship and there was no way he was going there ever again.

"I'm sorry." It took a lot to actually force the words his mind was screaming out of his mouth, but when he saw the look on his sister's face he knew it was worth it. Her smile that had been present most of the evening widened even more and lit up her face, and all of a sudden, he could see the bubbly, bright little girl who still looked up to her big brother for some things looking back at him. The sweet, optimistic, smart-ass Sammie who's biggest care in the world was figuring out how to beat the older boys at their own games.

Then she had to go and ruin the image by giving him a full-out, bone-crunching hug. The little Sammie he remembered had never been big on hugging him. Even kid geniuses believed in cooties apparently.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What was that all about?" Cate asked later that night as she and her husband stood in their driveway, waving off the car full of visitors. After a more than enjoyable dinner at Zeppo's, Mark and Cate had invited Sam and company back to the house for coffee and anything else they could find that could possibly taste good with coffee. Daniel had been, if possible, even more enthusiastic than Sam in accepting the invitation, mumbling something about not having had a decent cup all day when both Jack and Teal'c raised questioning brows in his direction. They'd had coffee, enough to appease even Daniel, and had chatted until it was decidedly dark outside. Even Ryan and Maggie had joined in for a while, listening to Daniel's stories and catching up with their fascinating and mysterious aunt. They were most curious about Teal'c and tried various ways of removing his hat, but even when Ryan tried sneaking up behind the man Teal'c still somehow caught him in the act. Thankfully, he took it all in good humor.

"What was what about?" Mark replied, playing dumb.

"What did you say to him?"

"Hmmm?"

"Jack. Mark, what did you say to Jack when you went off chatting?"

"Oh, nothing… I guess I'm just filling in where Dad can't anymore. I don't want him thinking that Carter family rules still don't apply just because old Dad isn't around to enforce them!"

"Somehow, honey, I don't think you're quite as intimidating in the eyes of a major general in the United States Air Force as your dad would have been, even if you are Sam's older brother," Cate said, trying not to laugh at her husband's attempts to protect his little sister from the big bad boyfriend. Mark turned and glared a bit, but ended up simply huffing resignedly.

"Yeah… I guess you're right. Still, if I ever get wind of anything bad on his end, he's going to have to watch out for one pissed off insurance seller!"

"They're quite a group, aren't they?" Cate mused as they headed back inside, pulling Mark's arm tighter around her shoulders.

"Yeah. I never thought I'd see the day when Sam would be friends with someone as humanities-oriented as Dr. Jackson. Though I _still_ don't know quite what she sees in O'Neill…" Mark grumbled a bit, shutting the garage door behind them.

"He loves her, isn't that all she needs to see?" Cate reasoned. Mark looked at her skeptically, the words _'Isn't that just a little sappy?'_ threatening to escape his mouth at any moment. "I know there's more to it than that," his wife reassured him, "but it's so obvious when they're together… I'm glad she's finally found someone like Jack O'Neill."

"Me too."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So… that went well, didn't it?" Jack asked, hanging his collared shirt on the back of the chair in his and Sam's hotel room before flinging himself onto the bed. It had been quite an eventful day for him. Between navigating through the emotional limbo and rushing around San Diego, it had been a surprisingly draining day.

"Surprisingly, yes. One day total reconciliation… I think that has to be a record," Sam agreed, digging around her suitcase for her pajamas for a few minutes before finding them. She was about to head to the bathroom to change into them when Jack moved from his sprawled position on the bed over to just behind her with stealth that belied his ever-aching knees.

"And to think you were worried." His arms encircled her waist in a familiar hold as he smirked lightly down at her.

"Hey, there was always a chance you would say something undiplomatic and then this whole trip would have been wasted!" Sam countered, poking him in the chest for emphasis.

"Me? Undiplomatic? I don't think I can recall a time when I wasn't diplomatic -"

"421, 593, 227… should I go on?" she listed, not buying the innocent look Jack was sporting for a second. She'd seen first hand just how badly Jack O'Neill could get on with certain people.

"No. And I was going to say that I can't recall a time when I wasn't diplomatic _where you were concerned_."

"I suppose," Sam relented, moving her hands up to the back of his neck to play with the short hairs there. "Jack?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning in and trying desperately to cling to a shred of sanity when Sam was so tantalizingly close.

"Thank you for today." Sam paused, her gaze lowering momentarily from his eyes to linger on his lips. Her forehead crinkled slightly as her eyes returned to his. "I love you, you know. Always."

"Always."


End file.
